


The Next Right Thing

by AnonymousCapybara



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-25
Updated: 2020-12-25
Packaged: 2021-03-11 03:27:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,431
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28308240
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnonymousCapybara/pseuds/AnonymousCapybara
Summary: Neville Longbottom may be a bit nervous about his new position, but Headmistress Minerva McGonagall is confident that she will always be able to trust her new Herbology Professor to do the next right thing.
Comments: 3
Kudos: 6





	The Next Right Thing

Minerva McGonagall has had plenty to be proud of during her tenure at Hogwarts. She has watched students in her house accomplish things people twice their age should never have had to attempt. She has seen them organize to rebel against oppression, she has seen them fight fiercely for what they believe in. She has seen them win a war.

Nothing prepares her, however, for the surge of pride that she feels in her chest when she first sees Neville Longbottom take his place at the head table in the Great Hall: a professor. He’s not the first of her former students to be hired here (Severus was), but she has never felt a bone-deep pride like this.

He’s quite young – the youngest on her staff. But Minerva knows that this boy – man – is uniquely qualified to be their Herbology professor. Her confidence in him stems from far more than Pomona’s insistence that she would only retire if Minerva hired Longbottom. (“No one knows more than him, Minerva. The poor boy spent so many hours hiding out in the greenhouses while he was here.”)

In his spot next to Professor Flitwick, Neville is fidgeting with the hems of his robes, glancing down at the table. Minerva doesn’t need Legilimency to know that he is doubting his position here. What Neville doesn’t notice, however, is the awe on the faces of the students assembled in the hall - for this is Hogwarts, and Neville Longbottom is a legend here. The seventh years were first years when Neville ran the DA like a general. He welcomed them with open arms and squares of chocolate and kind words. He stepped in and took Cruciatus curses meant for some of them.

Among the first years waiting to be sorted, there are whispers. The Sorting Hat sits on its stool, and one particularly bold student elbows her neighbor and loudly whispers that “My mum says that one of the professors pulled a sword out of it and killed Voldemort’s snake!”

McGonagall smiles to herself, happy to see the school welcoming a new generation who are not afraid to say Voldemort’s name. She is proud of her students (for they will always be hers: Harry, Ron, Hermione, Neville, and every member of the DA, whether they were in her house or not) for helping to create a world where this is possible. She is not at all surprised when the bold girl is sorted into Gryffindor.

She is also not surprised to find Neville lurking outside her office the next day, hands in his pockets, clearly torn over whether or not to knock.

“Do come in Longbottom,” she says casually as the gargoyles move aside and she sweeps up the stairs. It takes a moment, but she hears Neville begin to trudge after her.

“Do you know why you’re here, Longbottom?” she asks tersely, gesturing around her office. The portraits of former Headmasters on the wall are all glancing at each other demurely. Even though Neville brought himself to the Headmistresses’ office, he shakes his head, his eyes wide and a bit lost. McGonagall suppresses a smile.

“Longbottom -,“ she begins. “Professor Longbottom,” she corrects. “You had a great many Defense professors during your time here at Hogwarts, did you not?” She doesn’t pause to acknowledge Neville’s nod. “Who, would you say, was the best of those?”

“Umm, well probably Professor Lupin, Professor,” Neville stammers out. 

“Minerva, lad,” she reminds him gently. “And why would you classify Remus as the best Defense professor?”

“He - well, he brought out the best in us, didn’t he?” Neville asks, glancing at Minerva as if he is unsure. When she doesn’t reply, he continues, “He certainly brought out the best in me. He went out of his way to find places for me to excel when he knew that Professor Snape was making me feel unworthy. I didn’t see it then, but I see it now.”

McGonagall nods her head, blinking away a wave of emotion. “Remus Lupin deserved so much more than he got.”

Neville nods in agreement, as she can see some of the former Headmasters on the wall nodding their agreement as well. Notably, Professor Severus Snape can be seen rolling his eyes before walking out of his frame. Minerva chooses to ignore him.

“But, Longbottom,” she plows on, “We are not here to talk about Remus Lupin. We are here to talk about you. And why you are uniquely qualified to be the Herbology Professor at Hogwarts – boy, do not give me that look-,” she snaps, and Neville, for his part, looks rightfully mollified.

“Prof – Min – Minerva,” he starts out, the hesitation heavy in his voice. “That’s just the thing. I’m just… just Neville. I feel anything but qualified.” He lets out a sigh and fiddles his thumbs together nervously in his lap, not looking away from his hands.

“I don’t mean that I’m not grateful for the job,” he continues, finally meeting Minerva’s gaze. “It’s just… how will I deal with the students? How will I help them? Honestly, Professor, I barely made it through seven years as a student here myself!”

He scrapes a hand through his brown hair and looks at her with large hazel eyes that look so much like his mother’s that Minerva has to take a moment to collect herself before she responds.

“Neville,” she says gently. “A great many students did not even make it through seven years here during your time. You do not need me to remind you. What you did during your time as a student here is nothing to be scoffed at.”

“And Neville,” she continues, her voice calmer and more even than he has ever heard it. “I spent seven years as your Transfiguration professor. And no, you were not always the best student. But I spent seven years watching you do the next right thing, and that, son, is all you can ever hope for your students. I am so proud to have had you as a member of my house.”

Neville’s cheeks are turning pink, and Minerva is flooded with memories of his time at Hogwarts. There was tiny Neville as a first-year, so lost without his parents and yet so unknowingly a perfect mixture between the two. He had shown Frank’s bravery and Alice’s particular brand of spitfire when he stood up to the “Golden Trio”. But then there was also an older Neville who needed to be acknowledged. 

“I will never forget your seventh year, Longbottom,” McGonagall continues on kindly. “I think I speak for all of the professors here when I say that we did not quite know how to handle ourselves. The proverbial rug had been swept out from under our feet, and we did not know how to save Hogwarts.” Her eyes seemed to be gazing somewhere far away as she reminisced. 

“But you, boy, you knew what to do.” Her green eyes connect with his hazel eyes across her desk, laden with so many textbooks. “And let me be clear with you, Longbottom,” she says, her voice thick. “I know what you did that year. I don’t know how you did it, exactly, but I know what you did.”

“You rallied the troops. You became a leader. You comforted the younger students and gave them a home and showed them how to stand up for themselves. And I have never – never – been prouder to call someone a member of Gryffindor house. Do you understand me?”

Neville hastily swipes a stray bit of moisture off his cheek. “But what if… what if the kids are disappointed, Professor?” he asks. “They’re expecting a war hero, and well, I’m not Harry.”

“Of course you’re bloody not Harry Potter, boy!” she snaps. “You’re far more personable and less reckless. You have qualities that Harry could never dream of possessing. I think the gift you may have, Neville, is helping uncertain students find the hero inside of themselves. Even if it takes them seven years to find it.”

Neville glances up to meet her kind smile. He’s still nervous, of course, but he knows from personal experience, thanks to Remus Lupin and Minerva McGonagall, how much having a teacher believe in you can mean to a nervous student - and he intends to believe in all of his students.

Minerva, for her part, knows that Neville Longbottom will have an even greater career here as a professor than he did as a student. There is something magical, she knows, about being the person who can always be counted on to do the next right thing.


End file.
